


Two Sides of the Same Coin

by the49thname



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Laven Week, Laven Week 2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-10 05:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4378910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the49thname/pseuds/the49thname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of Lavi/Allen shorts. Various warnings and contents.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Laughter

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a collection of Laven shorts I'll be adding to every now and then, enjoy!!
> 
> Song the fic was written to: Sharks - Go West Young Man  
> Warnings: None
> 
> (Note: username has changed from rozzalina to the49thname)

The first kiss was _nerve-wracking_.

There was no elegance here, no romance or subtlety or the sort of perfection you found in cheap paperback novels. They were a mess of entangled limbs and Allen’s hair kept falling forward and trapping itself between their lips, and _god_ knows where Lavi was meant to put his hands, and it was _awkward_ , awkward in a way that left their stomachs fluttering because neither of them knew what they were doing.

And as Allen pulled back, yet again, apologising and tucking hair behind his ear in an embarrassed gesture - and it was this, above all, that stayed with Lavi for years afterwards - and as he leant forward, slowly, eyes half closed and cheeks flushed and fingers trembling against Lavi’s cheeks only to tilt his head the wrong way so they bumped noses, anxiety and doubt and intoxicating longing bubbled up to the surface and Allen found himself  _laughing_. It was part hysteria - because he shouldn’t be doing this, he shouldn’t have _given in_ to this - and part hilarity because of all people he should _know_ what to do, how to navigate this.

And yet somehow this gentle and tender intimacy, where the boy beneath him was just as nervous, with a jade green eye full of all the love and doubt and need Allen felt but could never express, it left him fragile and nervous and unable to think anything beyond _I want this, this is okay, I want this, this is **okay**_. And what else could he do but laugh at this, this ridiculous fragility that left his sides shaking and eyes burning with tears that he could only partly blame on the laughter, and Lavi’s confused expression only made him laugh harder until they were _both_ laughing, neither not quite knowing exactly why it was they were doing it.

But the tension had passed, and Allen was no longer trembling, and when Lavi pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead and called him an idiot he settled into this warm tenderness and made himself at home.


	2. Reunited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song the fic was written to: Daft Punk - Digital Love  
> Warnings: Alcohol mention
> 
> (Note: username has changed from rozzalina to the49thname)

The music was loud, each beat thrumming in time to his heart until every fibre of his being was one with the notes and the crowd of people surrounding him. He felt warm, far too warm, and the alcohol had left him giddy and senseless and worst of all _impulsive_. Before he felt good but now he was too hot, and the crowd was pressing down on him at all sides; he needed air, fresh air. And so he found himself stumbling, feet unsteady, out the kitchen door to a quiet and darkened porch under the watchful gaze of moonlit stars.

And there, sat by the door, was a boy.

He sat down beside him, leaning back and enjoying the feeling of wood beneath his hands and a nightly breeze cooling his skin. The music echoed quietly in the background, and nearby someone was talking angrily into a phone and cursing, but nonetheless it was peaceful and it felt calming, enjoyable, refreshing.

“You… alright there?”

He turned, having forgotten he had company, to meet silver eyes and silver hair and an inquisitive gaze that left him smiling and his stomach twisting pleasantly.

“Yup! Just fine!”

The boy laughed, bemused, before turning to look back up at the stars. He followed his gaze, tiny pinpricks of light dotting his vision as his eyes teared up from the cold.

“You know, I always feel small when I look up at the stars.”

“Hmm?”

“Like an ant. A very tiny ant, that the moon could squish.”

More laughter, and if sober he would’ve felt embarrassed but he felt far too relaxed to care, and his insides were fluttering and his hands were shaking and he couldn’t keep his feet still, kicking them this way and that over the side of the porch to-and-fro. He began to count each kick, finding a deep pleasure and calmness from doing so, until he heard a quiet voice close to his ear and he was _squirming_.

“It makes me feel happy.”

He turned, eyes wide and cheeks flushed and he couldn’t entirely blame it on the tequila anymore, and those silver eyes were so close and he could smell cigarette smoke and cologne and he found himself staring down at his hands awkwardly, fingers tapping nervously against the wood. But there was a hand close to his and his eyes travelled up slowly, from the colourful wristbands to the solid black of a tattooed arm and rolled up shirt sleeves and ears covered in piercings to half-shut silver eyes and soft lips and -

And he had lost, though in truth the moment he sat down he had already succumbed to this inexplicable feeling taking root within him, and there were lips against his and fingers entwining themselves in his hair and later he would regret it, but right now? Right now this was _heavenly_ , and he couldn’t think of anything he’d want to do more than this.

When the boy pulled away, eyes half-lidden and lips pulled up into a small smile, he found himself laughing quietly, feeling shy and unsure.

“W-why does it make you happy?” he blurted out, cheeks burning.

“What?”

“The stars.”

The boy laughed, shaking his head slightly, before looking up at the sky and smiling softly, eyes closing in fond remembrance.

“It reminds me that no matter what changes, some things always stay the same.”

“That’s some poetical bullshit right there.”

“Says the person too drunk to sit still.”

“Hey don’t blame me, blame the drink.”

And then they were laughing, and though some of that evening was lost in a drunken haze of confusion, he remembered so very strongly how _comfortable_ he felt, and for many nights after he found himself clinging to that feeling, staring at darkened ceilings with quiet sighs and a longing that frightened him.

But someone was calling his name, and despite the deep insistent urge to stay he knew he had to go, but the boy beside him was so enticing and beautiful in a way he could never express in words, for the moonlight left his hair and eyes shining and he was smiling so _fondly_ at him, so very fondly…

“What… what’s your name?”

A smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Allen. Allen Walker.”

“Well Allen, it’s nice to, uh, meet you. Let’s, maybe uh, see each other again some time?”

“Sure, I’d like that very much.”

And so he got up, swaying unsteadily, before looking down at the boy with the silver hair and the silver eyes and the bittersweet smile before grinning.

“I’m Lavi, nice to meetcha!”

He turned, stepping inside and following the receding figure of his friend through the crowd, and the music drowned out the parting words of the boy left alone, sat in starlight with a heart twisting in pain because he didn’t _remember_.

“Nice to see you again, Lavi…”


	3. Forbidden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song the fic was written to: Tamer - Beautiful Crime

It had started out with the most subtle of affections.

Gentle smiles, a reassuring hand upon a shoulder, the slight ruffling of hair - it was timid, this intimacy, and when either of them noticed it away it shrank, tucked away in a dark corner of their hearts. But soon they found it had become so much more than the occasional glance or lingering touch, and war made a habit of forcing you to realise that, so very easily, what you cared for could disappear in an instant. Like a flickering candle flame Allen Walker’s light faded, if only briefly, and as he stared up at the sky with card in hand Lavi knew that he was straying dangerously from the path he had chosen - no, not chosen, it was never a choice. _Bookmen have no need of a heart_ \- they were heavy words, spilling forth from years of conditioning and denying himself what it meant to be human, and he felt pained by it. As the light of yet another friend - no, not a friend - flickered and so very nearly died he found himself bound to his traitorous heart.

And then _he_ returned, dazzling in his convictions and full of resolute strength, and it was only after the battles were over, when they had returned home - no, not home - and he found himself staring at darkened ceilings, mind replaying memories of knives and screams and the gentle understanding smile of the friend he had grown to care for, that Lavi felt the unsettling weight of shame sink itself onto his shoulders. And so he distanced himself, as he always did, his ever smiling mask resolutely hiding the doubt eating away at his insides. When he watched Cross Marian tear down everything that Allen Walker had ever known about himself, about Mana, he stood and stared and recorded, as he was meant to, and tried to ignore the lump in his throat as Allen broke in front of him. And later, when he caught Allen staring into a mirror with a deadened and exhausted expression he ignored it, shoved away the fear and pity and drew further and further into the lie that was called “Lavi”.

But his mask was crumbling, and every day he spent shoving his emotions deeper and deeper into his heart the more he became unable to live the lie he had fashioned for himself.

The mask shattered on a quiet winter’s night, moonlight illuminating the worn book in his hands as he sat in the library and read, eye tiredly trailing from word-to-word. He heard more than saw Allen enter the room, quiet footsteps echoing against the polished floorboards, and Lavi looked up from his quiet abode in the corner of the room and watched as Allen slumped against a library bookshelf and shook, enshrouded in darkness. All the wondrous light he admired was fading, and the thought of Allen fading into nothingness, kept alive only by fond memory, caused him to stand and walk forward. One step, two steps, and as Allen turned with a shocked gasp and began to murmur apologies Lavi wordlessly drew the trembling boy into his arms and held him, gently. Allen froze then sank into his arms, fingers gripping at Lavi’s back so tightly it hurt. Neither of them spoke, and with the darkness as his only witness Lavi took Allen by the hand and sat with him in a quiet corner, gently rubbing his thumb against Allen’s hand as his friend fell asleep against his shoulder.

It was too late, far far too late to cut out his treacherous heart and be done with it. _You can never be Bookman, you’re a failure_.  As the days passed Allen sought his comforting presence more and more as the war continued ever on, and on nights when Bookman was busy elsewhere they lay in Lavi’s rickety and newspaper-strewn bed and Lavi would hold him, running his fingers through soft hair as Allen slept, watching every breath and the fluttering of eyelashes and hating the tightness in his chest and the gentle intimacy that escaped from his caged heart.

And, when the Noah took him and his master and demanded answers, when Bookman died and Lavi could do nothing more than watch and weep, when he had to take on the role he had spent his entire life training for, he felt all his love for Allen Walker fade as Bookman Junior ran a knife through his heart.

Allen never got to say goodbye, and when he was told without emotion that the person before him was Bookman, that the person he had grown to care for was gone, he stood in the ruins of his forbidden love and wept.


	4. Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a crossover fic set in a sort of mishmash universe between D Gray Man and His Dark Materials, enjoy!!
> 
> Song the fic was written to: Vienna Teng - Gravity  
> Warnings: Spoilers for the ending of The Amber Spyglass (third book in the His Dark Materials trilogy)

It was Midsummer’s Day.

Bright summer sunshine filtered through green leaves, dappled light falling gently across your features, and as you sat on the familiar park bench and watched nearby butterflies flitter among the flowerbeds you felt content. Happy? No, for this day was not one for smiles and the warmth happiness brought to you. It was a day for bittersweet remembrance, for longing, for loneliness, for love.

Because today five years ago was the last time you saw Allen Walker, the last time you would ever see him.

It felt like an age long since passed, and yet it also felt like you had last seen him yesterday, with his bright hopeful smile and his red-rimmed eyes that said the wordless _I love you_. It pained your heart to remember him, but your pain was tinged with something… else, something that made you smile despite the aching loss clutching at your chest. A nameless feeling, one you had clung to over the years - it had kept you going, it had kept you _alive_.

It had been hard, returning to your world after everything you had seen. With your grandfather dead and your weapon gone your place in the world had suddenly disappeared, and the one place you had grown to call home was now in another world, a world you could never go back to. Your dæmon was the only thing that kept you going - Astera had always been like that for you, a voice of reason among the fear and darkness and doubt. She had been there for you since you were born, and would be there for you right up until you died - without her, you knew for certain you would never have made it through all your trials. It seemed as if you had made it through luck and chance, but coming across the gateway all those long years ago had not been chance - no, it had been fated to happen, even if you hated it - and it was laughable to think that a _cat_ had been your guide into Citàgazze. It brought a smile to your features, remembering chasing the ginger tomcat and finding yourself in another world entirely.

A warm breeze, the smell of salt in the air, the glare of light against sun-bleached walls - and so Lavi Bookman entered another world.

At first you thought it was a dream, but after finding nothing but dust and empty streets you began to suspect otherwise. And, upon entering a dimly lit café off the harbour, you found the boy named Allen Walker. You remember feeling complete and utter fear towards him - white hair, a star-shaped scar, a left hand with a cross embedded in it, _no dæmon_ \- Allen might as well have been a ghost, if not for the fact that he lived and breathed and nearly broke your nose as soon as you stepped through the door. Astera had been so frightened of him that she hid inside your scarf, trembling violently against your neck. But once the boy met your gaze and you held it - standing up a little straighter to show that no, you were _not_ afraid - the stranger seemed to calm down.

He was younger than you, and yet the weariness in his eyes spoke of burdens far heavier than any 16 year old boy should ever carry, and your impression of him when you first met was one of both pity and admiration. It had been an awkward first meeting, even more so when Allen saw the shivering flame-furred monkey huddled away in your scarf. He had called her a pet, and you and your dæmon had not known whether to feel amused or insulted - he spoke of her as if Astera was nothing more than a mindless… _animal_ , and oh how wrong he was for she was a part of you, a part of your _soul_ , and your bond was stronger than any other you would ever form throughout your entire life. Any insult given was soon remedied however when Astera spoke to Allen, and the poor boy jumped and shrieked and stared at your dæmon as if she was some sort of apparition. You’d laughed then, and the uncertain smile on Allen’s face soon dissipated any fear or ill feeling you had harboured towards the boy.

And so your travels began from so humble a beginning - who would think that it would be you and Allen that would be fated to save the world. It had been a hard journey, one which you and your dæmon carried the scars for - you raised a hand to your right eye, the proof of your involvement and what you carried for a brief time hidden by a simple eyepatch, and remembered with a sick feeling in your stomach how you had lost it.

You’d always been different - the boy with mismatched eyes, the boy with no parents, the boy with no home - and when you ended up being the accommodator to this otherworldly weapon it felt as if insult had been added to injury. Of all people didn’t you deserve to be normal for once? You had not even heard of Innocence when it had happened, burning summer heat bearing down on your back as you stood on the roof of the _Torre degli Angeli_ , right eye aglow and crystalline with your face stained with blood. Allen had explained Innocence to you before this, had shown you his arm and what it could do and briefly explained the history of his world, but you did not know anything else. And so learning you were now the wielder of the Heart of all Innocence, had become the bearer of a weapon everyone wished to abuse for their own means - it had nearly broken you and Astera both. Fate weighed heavily upon both boy and dæmon, but when the both of you nearly gave up Allen and his brightly shining hope kept you both going.

If not for Allen you knew you would never have gotten through the Land of the Dead, your dæmon’s missing presence a constant aching wound in your chest. Allen, too, felt that painful loss, having lost a part of himself he never knew existed, and as you made your weary way through dust and darkness and whispers of those long since dead you knew that your bond to this boy, with his white hair and star-shaped scar and his dazzling ability to hope, was something you would treasure throughout all your long years.

And it made your goodbye all the worse, for you had scarcely had the chance to be with him, to _love_ him, and just when you had discovered the sweetest of things it was taken from you.

After leaving the Land of the Dead it was chaos - pure and utter chaos, and it was a mess of fighting and blood and fire and death and the constant fear of your dæmon being taken from you forever. But you and Allen made it, to a world of grasslands and strange wheeled creatures and a scientist named Miranda Lotto, and as you reunited with Astera - and as Allen met his dæmon for the first time - you finally felt at ease. You slept, you ate, you laughed and loved and your first kiss was as sweet as the fruits you and Allen had just eaten, and without knowing it your love for this boy and his brightly shining hope had saved everyone, had let Innocence return to Dust and returned the universe to its rightful state.

Or, it nearly did. For the gateways had to be closed, every single one of them. You would return to your world, with its witches and magic and dæmons, and Allen would return to his, a world scarred by a holy war between humans and Noah, and you would never meet each other again.

You would never forget it, that goodbye, and you remembered it with perfect recollection - it had been night in Citàgazze, and after you kissed Allen for the last time and pulled away from him you saw tiny stars flickering in his tears and red-rimmed eyes, and his smile was still full of hope even with all that pain etched into his expression. Astera had said goodbye to Allen’s dæmon, a beautiful snow hare with fur aglow under the light of the moon, and as you and your dæmon stepped back into the gateway and watched Allen close it you knew you could never look back - you had to keep hoping, for the future and what it would bring.

The hope Allen had given you would never leave you, no matter how many long years passed.

And so you kept your promise, the one you had made to Allen before you parted ways, and sat on a small park bench in Oxford every Midsummer’s Day since then. You would sit, and bask in summer sunshine and watch the world pass by for a few hours, knowing that worlds away Allen would sit with his dæmon on another park bench in another Oxford, thinking of you with the same bittersweet smile, feeling the same bittersweet longing.

“Lavi, are you even listening to me?”

You jumped, startled out of your thoughts by the words spoken, and gave Astera a sheepish smile as she glared at you from her customary spot in the folds of your scarf.

“Sorry, Tera, what were you sayin’?”

The dæmon huffed quietly, clambering onto your shoulder and tucking her tail behind your neck.

“I was saying that we’d better hurry home, it’s getting late and Dr. Lotto said she’d have dinner ready for 5.”

“Ah I nearly forgot. And we said we’d get her some bread to go with dinner too.”

Astera laughed. “Of course you forgot, what would you do without me reminding you of things huh? If we leave now we’ll still have time.”

You huffed, indignant. “I do remember things. Just... not today…”

Astera watched your morose expression for a few seconds before pinching at your cheek - a sharp pain, a reminder of your being here - and as you turned and lightly swatted her head she met your gaze and spoke in a solemn tone, her lone brown eye peering into your green one.

“We promised them we wouldn’t do that, Lavi.”

You tilted your head, confused. “Wouldn’t do what?”

“Regret it.”

You fell silent at her words, gaze drifting to the pavement beneath your feet. Astera pressed herself against your cheek, as reassuring as she could be, and when she spoke once more her voice was full of gentle emotion.

“We’ve got to keep walking.”

You nod and stretch a little with a smile, gently stroking Astera’s fur as she returns to her place in your scarf, warm and comforting against your skin - a tiny heart beating in tandem to yours, a lifeline - and as you stand and watch the sun dip behind nearby rooftops you put aside the loneliness, the longing, and return to the present, to the Kingdom of Heaven you are building.


	5. Missed Opportunities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick oneshot for the first day of Laven Week 2017 with very slight NeaLavi, if you squint. Enjoy!!
> 
> Song the fic was written to: Like the Dawn by The Oh Hellos  
> Warnings: none

It was surprising how heavy a burden a simple card could be.

It was such a small thing, scarcely bigger than his palm. It fitted comfortably into his pocket, into his hands - into his heart - and yet it felt cumbersome, like it could slip out at any moment, forever trapped in a space much too small. It was such a tiny thing, yet it bore the weight of a heavy anchor, chaining him down into the abyss.

A heart is a heavy burden, but possessions left behind by the dead are heavier.

And yet there was no death or loss to use as an excuse this time - a young Finder who could no longer give a white ribbon to his beloved, a child who could no longer hold her toy rabbit in shaking hands - and there was no justification to have held onto something that should by all rights hold no meaning for him. There was no reason to keep it, day-in, day-out, hidden in his shirt pocket. And yet there it remained, burning a hole into his heart - bleeding out, lost in the shadow of the moon, all alone as _he_ lay there dying - and every day that passed since Lavi returned from the Ark, safe and sound, the ace of spades became all the heavier a burden.

It should be so simple, to give it back. _Here, I picked this up and it’s yours._ Only a few short words and embarrassed laughter to cover up his fear and he would be spared from this burden. He would be free of it, free of the reminder that a young man - with white hair and a martyr-bound spirit and hope in his eyes so blinding that it _hurt_ \- meant far too much to him. But he couldn’t let it go. He didn’t know _how_ to let it go. Every time he caught Allen alone - staring into a mirror with dead eyes and a smile that didn’t reach them - his throat dried up, hands clammy, choking on the words he knew he had to say but couldn’t.

Because he knew, deep down, that it wouldn’t be a simple matter of returning it and leaving. He’d already strayed too far, lost in the wilderness with his path out of sight - out of mind - with that shining light forever guiding him into places unknown. The fear that the words he had heard from an Allen that was not Allen - _you held onto this for me all this time_ \- the fear that the part of him that clung with bloodied fingertips to his duty - _without telling Bookman_ \- would get rid of him to do what he should have done months ago - years ago - left him unable to utter a single goddamn word.

Time passed. Days and weeks and months swept him along through the tides of the present, and Lavi buried himself in all the distractions he could. Denial and avoidance had gotten him through his entire life, why wouldn’t it work now? He repeated it like a mantra - _this doesn’t mean anything_ \- as he watched Allen break and did nothing, said nothing, as the person that he could not call a friend asked with a shaking voice if his father had ever loved him. He watched - _this doesn’t mean anything_ \- as Allen spent endless weeks slowly drawing into himself, he watched as the fake smiles - _this doesn’t mean a goddamn thing_ \- became more commonplace than the genuine ones, mask hiding the pain underneath.

With desperation, Lavi distanced himself, hiding himself within his duty and hoping it would be enough.

It wasn’t.

And then his duty was gone, nothing more than a fragment of a memory as the man who raised him disappeared without a trace, taken by the very enemy they pitted themselves against for no other reason but to fulfil a role. Bloodied palms and power thrumming through his veins - _if you get too close to your Innocence_ \- made his choice for him. And yet, he couldn’t blame the evolution of his Innocence because it did it to protect him - _we will have to leave the Order_ \- when every living second became blood and toil and pain and broken bones with a Noah’s hand through his heart.

No, this had never been anything or anyone’s fault but his own. He had always been too careless, toeing the line between truth and falsity until he couldn’t tell the difference. And now it was too late. Bookman had lost his apprentice, not to death or misadventure but to the very humanity that their Clan had tried to separate themselves from for a millennia. And that card still remained in Lavi’s pocket, tying him down to a place that could never be home, tying him to a person that may no longer exist.

Months passed, and the empty space where duty had once been was replaced by a burning need to find _him_ , to put everything to rights. He had already failed as a Bookman, but the least he could do was remove his burdens, one at a time, until the weight on his shoulders ceased to be. Lavi went from town to town, city to city, asking about a boy with white hair and a scar and a heart too full of hope for one so burdened. And every step of the way he found nothing, chasing after the remnants of a person who had probably already succumbed to the dark, writhing thing lying in wait inside of him.

And _god_ , nothing had ever hurt more than the thought of it.

He had nothing left, lost in the wilderness with his chosen path long since out of sight, desperately trying to find the guiding light that had driven him into the darkness in the first place. He needed purpose more than he needed anything else - he needed to see him again, to see his smile and feel his gentle touch on his shoulder and hear his voice and know that he wasn’t gone, _not yet_ \- and it drove him to walk many long miles, endlessly searching, nothing to guide him but the empty feeling in his heart and the incessant desire to feel whole again.

When he finally found him - finally, after so many long months of searching - he was standing in the ruins of a church, the last light of the sun casting his hair into hues of flame and fire. He looked so small, down on his knees with his hands clasped together, coat hanging loosely against his frame. Lavi hardly dared to breathe, eye wide, a tattered and well-loved playing card gripped between his fingertips.

“Who’re you praying to?”

Silence, draping itself onto dust-covered pews and broken stone and Lavi’s trembling shoulders; and without a word, Allen raised himself up and turned to face him.

“Not to your God, at least.”

_Oh_. It was the only thing he could say as golden eyes and a smile that was not Allen’s - could never be Allen’s, not anymore - greeted him, dusk swiftly descending upon the both of them. _Too late_ , he thought as the man known as the Fourteenth stepped forward, haloed by dying light. _Too late_ , as he fell to his knees and gripped card tightly between his scarred hands, head bowed. _Too late_ , as a hand reached for his chin and lifted up his head.

“You can’t save him.”

Lavi could do nothing more than laugh, voice thick with emotion - bitterness, anger, _regret_ \- tears blurring his vision, looking at anything but the golden eyes fixed on his own.

“I know.”

Laughter dissipated into painful silence. Nothing, he had _nothing_ , absolutely nothing; all his purpose was _gone_. The guiding light he’d been desperately following had already been snuffed out like a candle flame. The dark wilderness he’d lost himself in grew closer around him, clutched at his heart with sharp thorns and whispered _too late, too late, too late to ever say you loved him_.

As Lavi sat and broke and renounced all possible salvation for his unwanted heart, gloved hands pulled the ace of spades out from between his fingertips and lifted it up towards the last light of day, white card cast into hues of amber and rose pink. Lavi looked up and saw reverence in eyes that would no longer carry hope so bright that it was dazzling, heard words that Allen could never say.

_You held onto this for me…_

“Tim showed me the memory of you picking this thing up, can’t imagine that old man was all that happy about you holding onto this, huh?”

Neah looked down and pocketed the card, a curious glint in his eyes as he leant forward and placed his other hand on Lavi’s shoulder.

_… Without telling Bookman._

“So what will you do now, failed apprentice?”

Lavi couldn’t give an answer even if he wanted to, choking on the words he could never say, swallowed whole by regret and the burden he so desperately wanted to lose. But as a hand reached forward, held in place before him, urging him onto his feet - one purpose exchanged for another, just another light to guide him further out into the darkness - he looked up and saw for the briefest of moments all the dazzling brightness he’d come to admire showing in golden eyes.

He didn’t need to hear the words _come with me_ , didn’t need to hear the warnings about betrayal and idle threats fuelled by suspicion. He had lost the moment he thought he saw the remnants of Allen Walker remain within someone who had undoubtedly done his best to erase his existence. And even if it was a hope in vain, Lavi was going to cling to it with all the strength he could muster.

He was going to tell Allen what he had always meant to say. He was going to return the card that linked both their lost souls together. He had been lost out in the dark before Allen came - out on his path, walking without thinking, following a thread towards a future he’d never wanted - and now Allen was lost, and it was _his_ turn to bring him back.

He had spent endless months counting up the missed opportunities, endless hours thinking over unspoken words and hidden desires. And now, on the brink of desolation, he would walk beside a man carrying a banner of war and urge the person he loved back towards the light.


	6. Connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short oneshot for Laven Week 2017, this time for day 2, enjoy!
> 
> Song the fic was written to: Mercury by Sleeping At Last  
> Warnings: none

It was one of the rare moments where they could be alone together.

No Link tailing behind Allen’s heels, no Bookman demanding why Lavi’s perpetually ink-stained fingers weren’t busying away, forever more records to write. Nothing stirred but the slow rise and fall of their chests, the gentle motion of Lavi’s thumb moving back and forth against the side of Allen’s hand. The silence that surrounded them was peaceful, if a little pensive - there was always so much left unsaid between them, no matter how much they tried to say what was on their minds - and it eased away most of the tension that a day’s worth of fighting had given them. Lavi shifted where he lay, left arm going numb from where Allen was tucked into the crook of it, and winced as a sharp pain shot up his side from the injury he’d gained only a few hours earlier. Allen noticed, raising his head a little, voice husky from exhaustion.

“Are you alright?”

Lavi nodded, moving his arm down a little so he could place a hand on Allen’s side and shift him over a little, to take the pressure off of his arm. Allen gave him a look, lips pulling up into a smile.

“If you want me to move, just ask.”

“Nah, you’re fine, just hard to get comfortable with this stupid thing.” He gestured at his bandaged torso with a grimace. “Should’ve been more careful.”

Allen scowled up at him, poking the end of his nose with a finger. “You should have been, yes. If I hadn’t cut that Akuma in two you probably would have gained a lot more than a gash and bruised ribs.”

Lavi groaned, head falling back against the pillow beneath him with a huff. “Yeah, yeah, Nurse Allen, I’ll try harder not to get myself hurt next time.”

Allen shook his head, pushing himself up to press a gentle kiss against Lavi’s cheek before settling back down, wrapping an arm around Lavi’s middle. It was still new, this gentle intimacy that they shared with one another, and such soft gestures still felt a little overwhelming. Lavi pulled Allen closer, burying his face in his hair with a tired smile.

They were both exhausted, but it was not the kind that would lull them into blissful unconsciousness. Days like this left them with a lot on their minds, reminding them rather harshly about the reality of their situation. They had ignored all the warnings and possible consequences, knowing that regardless of how much they should have remained as friends and nothing more, it was already too late. It was too late the moment Lavi held onto the card left behind in the wake of Allen’s near-death. It was too late the moment Allen pulled Lavi into a tight embrace and begged him to come back from the dark place Road’s influence had taken him to. All they could do was appreciate the time they had, while it lasted, no matter how bittersweet it felt.

Lavi raised a hand and ran his fingers through Allen’s hair, smiling at the appreciate hum Allen gave in reply. It was one of the rare times where he truly appreciated having a perfect memory, knowing that this quiet moment between them would be so vivid in his mind, even months or years later. The thought that memories may be all he would ever have left of Allen one day made him falter, fingers nestled in between snowy locks, heart twisting painfully in his chest. _No_ , he told himself, _now isn’t the time for this_. It was impossible not to think about the consequences, he knew, but it was pointless to torture himself with eventuality upon eventuality until the sheer burden of it became a heavy weight upon his shoulders.

Allen felt Lavi tense up beside him and turned to pull him into his arms, burying his face in his shoulder. Lavi mimicked his actions, and for a long time they did nothing but hold each other, breathing in tandem, trying to think of nothing beyond the beating of each other’s hearts and the warmth emanating between them. After a while Allen shifted in Lavi’s arms, raising his head up to press a kiss against his lips before pulling away slightly, running a thumb against Lavi’s cheek with a gentle expression. The edge of his thumb brushed against the fabric of Lavi’s eyepatch, and the curious glint in his eyes made Lavi feel… not uncomfortable, not quite, but on edge enough for his heart to skip a beat.

“I don’t think you ever told me why you wear this.”

Lavi remained silent, tensing up a little in Allen’s arms, trying to look at anything but the silver eyes gazing up at him. Realising he’d raised a difficult subject, Allen frowned.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was -”

“It’s fine.”

Lavi’s reply was too quick and Allen knew he’d made him uncomfortable. He sighed, shaking his head a little.

“You say that, but I of all people should know better than to pry about such things.”

Lavi paused for a moment before smiling, pressing a kiss against Allen’s forehead and mumbling his words against his skin. “You of all people would understand, though.”

The question of why it still remained unsaid arose within Allen’s mind, but he had realised rather quickly that Lavi would only speak of what burdened him when he was ready to; trying to pick apart his words would do nothing more than make him even more withdrawn. So, when Lavi continued to speak in a subdued tone, Allen hardly dared to breathe, eyes wide.

“I don’t know how you keep yours out like that, I couldn’t handle it... ya know, bein’ stared at and pointed at and made to feel like some kinda circus performer.”

Allen smiled, bitterly. “Guess I’m just used to being the circus performer.”

Lavi shifted a little to rub a thumb along Allen’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

Allen wanted to ask Lavi to continue, but knew better not to. The fact he’d made the comparison between them said enough about what lay hidden behind black fabric, and knowing that Lavi felt comfortable enough with him to admit even that much was a comfort to him. After a moment of silence he smiled, and pulled back a little to meet Lavi’s gaze with a quiet laugh.

“Well, at least we match.” When Lavi’s eye widened, a nameless emotion showing in his face, Allen smiled all the brighter, laughter tinging his words. “I guess that leaves two good eyes between us!”

Lavi stared at him for a moment before his mouth twitched into a pained smile, and then they were both laughing, hearts gripped tightly by a feeling that was difficult to describe with words. It was a shared connection between the both of them, a shared burden that they’d carried their entire lives and would carry until the day they died. Lavi had never been able to handle the burden of it, been able to do nothing beyond hiding it behind fabric and string and hoping that no-one would ever know the truth. But Allen bore that burden, not with pride but with some semblance of acceptance, and though Lavi knew better than to praise him for such a difficult thing he still admired him for it.

As silence befell them, they looked at each other as if for the first time, and saw themselves in each other so strongly it was almost painful. Lavi raised a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Allen’s ear, and smiled when Allen leant into the gesture, eyes closed and a content hum escaping him. When Allen opened his eyes, all the hope and light that Lavi admired showed so strongly it was overwhelming. He was so kind, despite how flawed he saw himself, and he could never express with words how much Allen had given him in all the time that they’d known each other.

He had spent his entire life distancing himself from others, and to be this close with someone was _terrifying_. It left him feeling vulnerable and wondering how much it would hurt to lose something - _someone_ \- that now meant so much to him. Maybe someday he would share his past with the boy in his arms, would lay himself bare and unmasked before him and hope that it wouldn’t hurt, that there would be acceptance and not rejection. And he knew that Allen had his own hidden secrets, that there was so much he didn’t know about him. It was what had drawn Lavi to him in the first place, like looking into a mirror and seeing someone else instead of your reflection. And as Allen pressed a gentle kiss against his lips before closing his eyes and settling into the crook of his arm, he knew that of all people Allen would understand that some things needed to be kept hidden until it was time to let it go.

His right eye was his burden to carry, but knowing that the boy in his arms understood and carried the same burden upon his shoulders, that they shared a connection with something so personal to the both of them, was comforting enough.


End file.
